She was not the kind of girl to whom you’d lose your heart, on seeing her for the first time. She was the kind of girl to whom you’d lose your mind, after spending valuable time with her. She was pretty of her own kind. She was effortless in making you fall for her conversations. Conversations that dive into the intricate details of your thoughts, emotions and feelings.

I still remember the day I poured my heart out to her. She greeted me with a hug and a kiss when I reached her place. The warmth of her tight hug and the touch of her gentle kiss drew a pleasant smile across my face. We had the roof to ourselves and we were headed for something real. I was not the kind of person who shared deep thoughts or dark emotions with anyone, until that day.

I usually kept such things to myself and shared only the happy and positive thoughts with others, but she was different. “I think everything is over-rated in life. Every damn thing. Happiness, love, success, sex, travel, passion and even family. I feel everybody exaggerates such things so much that it makes you crave for more.”, I cribbed to her.

She knew every bit of me. I had told her about how I’ve fallen in and fallen out of love. I had told her about how I find it difficult to express love towards my family. I had told her about how I’ve lost people really close in my life and how that hurt me. I had even told her about how my own expectations, dreams and hopes kill me, each day.

“There have been and there will be times where you’ll find everything to be worthless and pointless, you’ll lose your partner, friend or family through acts of ego, misunderstandings or even death, you’ll be alone wondering what is wrong with your life, you’ll realize that meaningless fight for success and fame never end.”, she read my mind aloud.

She continued, “But there have also been and there will also be times when you feel you’re on top of the world, when you are made to feel special, when you love someone unconditionally and they make you proud, when you lose yourself to the beauty of nature. We are often lost dreaming about things that will one day make us happy.”

“We can never know what will make us happy. Most of what we think is just a figment of how we think a few dreams will make us feel, how others portray such things to be, how we live in our imaginary moments. But one thing is true, it is only when we connect with people and moments, be it good or bad, we feel alive. I think all our lives are meant to make us feel alive.”, I concluded.

I stated the obvious and yet she carefully listened to every single word of what I said and she connected with me. She cared for what I said and she showed it to me in excess, in abandon that I felt good but it scared me. I pulled her close towards me and she wrapped herself around me, holding me in place.

The next set of words from the edge of her mouth, made me go speechless, “Do you feel alive, now?”. I didn’t want to say yes but I showed it to her by cuddling her to sleep and I made sure both of us felt alive. Such days became more frequent in my life. I assumed such days were more to come. I never wanted them to end but here I’m writing about what I miss the most.

I didn’t fall in love with her. I loved those beautiful conversations with her. And I thought I was lucky and special to have her. It wasn’t too late when I realized I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. It was never about me, it was her. The way she made me feel. The way she let me be myself around her. My mind shattered into pieces when I found this. For reasons I might never know.

Maybe, I was selfish. Maybe, I was jealous. Maybe, I was hurt.
Maybe, I was afraid to lose what I’d already lost.

It’s been years since I lost touch with her and I’m not sure if things will ever be the same again. And my fear of creating a different bond, a different world with her overshadows my hope for a day when I’d meet her again, to lose myself. To lose myself, once more. Once and forever.

She was too good to be true that I’m often absorbed in thoughts wondering if she was just a fictional part of my imagination or if she was for real.